Milonga Del Ángel
by Tineke
Summary: Supernatural!AU.  Kurt Hummel is half angel, in a world where anything non-human is shunned. He believes he'll have to hide who he is for his entire life. Until He meets Blaine. Contains Strong language, including slurs.


**A/N: Verse and Seraph Mythos based on those created by blaqkheaven and oddreigh at the Ohio After Dark tumblr RP. Beta'd by oddreigh and blendertest. Title is a composition by Ástor Piazolla. **

June 19th 1993

The marriage of Burt Hummel and Elizabeth Ailé was celebrated with their friends and family in St. John's Church in Lima.

April 23rd 1994

Kurt Elijah was born to Burt and Elizabeth Hummel at 3am, at a healthy eight pounds.

September 3rd 2002

Elizabeth Hummel died when the car she was driving slid off the road and rolled into a lake. Her son, Kurt (8), managed to swim to safety. Her body was never recovered.

_She looked sad, but peaceful as the car sunk down into the water. Kurt was panicking, staring at the lake through the slowly cracking windows. His wings, broken free of their restraints, slapped against the seat in a way that was startlingly loud in the eerie underwater silence. She turned to look at him, smiling._

"_Goodbye, Kurt. For now."_

_He remembers a flash of light, and then sitting on the bank, soaking wet, harness fixed and wings secure._

June 7th 2004

The rumour mill may spell the end of candidate for mayor, Jonathan Anderson, after his daughter, Jacqueline Anderson, was attacked by an alleged 'wild dog' last week. However, in the days that have passed since she was treated for the attack, there has been much speculation on the true form of the attacker – in particular the possibility of non-human involvement. If so, Jacqueline's possible status as a non-human could ruin Anderson's already endangered campaign. Sources claim the sixteen year old is no longer living in the family home.

Turn to page 6 for a brief history of Jonathan Anderson's political career

Turn to page 10 for a concise list of recent attacks by non-humans

_Nightmares for weeks, paws scratching at his door, something growling outside his window._

October 12 2009

Sandy Ryerson, the suspected Werewolf recently fired from William McKinley High School in Lima, Ohio, was found dead in his home yesterday morning. His death has been ruled a suicide. The fifty-eight year old was fired under allegations of inappropriately touching male students. Non-human rights activists have started protests against the call, claiming the allegations were falsified after Ryerson had an intense allergic reaction to a substitute teacher's silver jewellery. Ryerson's species has yet to be confirmed.

_You could see it in the eyes of half the people in the student body. Wondering who would be next. People were distracted, fidgety. Waiting for the axe to fall._

August 30th 2010

Matt Rutherford (allegedly 16), about to start his Junior year at William McKinley High School in Limo, Ohio, has disappeared from his home after being exposed as a vampire last month. Police have stated that it appears the teenager has run away, as many of his possessions are missing, and there was no sign of a struggle.

_Everyone tries to ignore it when summer ends and he's not there. Friends who didn't know his secret refuse to say his name. Everyone else pretends they never knew who – or what – he was._

Five am.

Kurt's alarm went off and he looked blearily up from his pillow. He was pretty sure he was the only kid in Lima that got up at five. But the reason why was simple: he just needed the extra time. It wasn't like he wouldn't take a long time to get ready normally, but he did have a little more to hide than most people. He got up, slowly stretching the kinks out his back, hearing his spine crack, and shook his wings out, raining dander on the carpet. There were a few feathers at odd angles, and he had to reach awkwardly behind him to try and smooth them, plucking a particularly stubborn one with a wince. Then he pulled his wings against his back as tightly as he could, tighter than was strictly comfortable, even with the improbably small size they folded to, and took his harness out of his top drawer.

When he was younger his harnesses had been made by his mother, carefully and delicately. She'd tie them on every morning because she of all people knew why he had to hide. Then after she was gone his harness had basically been a couple of belts jury-rigged together by his dad. Until he learned to make his own, and put them on himself. Now it was automatic, pulling his wings in, cinching the straps in hole by hole, tight enough that he could feel the joints pulling at odd angles. Then actually getting dressed. Layers. Layers were key because no one could see the pattern his feathers made against the fabric. And at least one layer needed to be tucked in, so nothing stuck out strangely over the waistband. It was an art Kurt had perfected over the many years he'd spent hiding his most recognisable physical feature. But practice meant that by six thirty he was sure that nothing was showing, that he was dressed properly, that his hair was done. Looking put together was good. If you looked put together, Kurt had learned, no one would think you were hiding anything.

He couldn't pretend it wasn't hard. But it wasn't a choice. He could imagine the kind of things people would say if it ever got out that he was sporting wings.

'_Fag has wings? Guess he really is a fairy.'_

'_What are you going to grow next, a dick?'_

'_Hey, Hummel, when are you going to start wearing dresses like a real girl?'_

He'd seen the things that happened to people who got outed as supernatural beings. It wasn't that people didn't know they existed; it was just that they didn't want them to. Maybe it was the fact that most of them were stronger than most humans. Maybe it was how hard they were to spot. All Kurt knew was in a town the size of Lima, in a state like Ohio, it was hard enough being gay.

He knew he wasn't the only non-human in the school. A few members of the hockey team sent a tingle running up his spine like he should be running away, making him want to fluff his feathers out, spread his wings so he looked bigger. But he restrained himself. The way Santana Lopez looked at Brittany Pierce screamed mating for life, no matter how promiscuous she appeared. Then of course there were people like Rachel 'I support non-human rights' Berry, who wore t-shirts that said things like 'I met a vampire and I didn't get bitten – just this lousy t-shirt', and proclaimed that, due to her two gay dad's, she was well aware of the discrimination faced by non-humans. And maybe she was. But Kurt wasn't exactly interested in protesting for his rights. He was just trying to get through high school without dying. So he never went to the rallies that she organised and was the only person to attend. He saw her as he walked into the school, putting up posters for what seemed to be a sit in at the local library, which was known and well respected for stocking no books which portrayed non-humans as something to be accepted. Quinn Fabray was smirking widely as she directed Cheerios, who were obviously attempting to curry favour with their queen, to tear the posters down just as fast as Berry could put them up. Kurt ignored the way his wings shifted when he passed the blonde girl. He couldn't call her hypocritical. She was just trying to do the same thing he was.

"Hey, fag." The greeting was punctuated with a harsh shove sideways, and Kurt felt the breath push out of him as his shoulder and chest hit lockers. David Karofsky and Azimio Adams laughed as they walked away, and Kurt drew in a long, slow breath to keep his emotions in check. It was nothing he wasn't used too. It had been harder in his childhood, when any slight was likely to upset him enough to make his stomach church and his wings unfurl, straining against the straps of his harness until the fabric snapped. Now he could control himself. Breathe. Keep walking. He felt the muscles in his shoulder blades twitch a little, but he made it. Like he made it through every day. Through Mr. Schuester refusing to listen in the one thing that made going to this godforsaken public school worth it. Through watching Rachel and Finn Hudson sing songs to each other like he was fairly sure no one would ever sing to him. Through the cagey looks passed between people who _knew_ that the other wasn't what they said they were.

_Eight was always going to be old enough to understand that death meant never coming back. But Kurt's situation was so much more complicated. Because Angels didn't die – his mother had told him. So he didn't understand where she'd gone. Burt, heartbroken, could never explain too well._

"_She was never meant to live here long, Kurt. She doesn't belong in this world. You'll see her again."_

_But Kurt's never sure if he will. Because if humans were meant for this world and Angels were meant for Heaven… where was he meant for?_

"Kurt. I've been thinking about things recently." Kurt looked up from the carrot sticks he was chopping.

"Things?"

"About me and Carole. And Finn." Kurt nodded to show he was listening. "Things have been getting pretty serious between us. And if we're going to be a family, we shouldn't be keeping any secrets." Kurt paused and put the knife down, before turning and facing his father, enjoying the feeling of his wings twitching in annoyance without meeting straps and several layers of fabric.

"If this is going where I think it's going, can I just say that is a _terrible_ idea." Burt folded his arms, surveying him.

"What do you want to do if they move in again then, huh? Because I remember you didn't seem to have a whole lot of fun sneaking around." Kurt's wings rustled. Maybe he and Finn were okay now, but he doubted Finn ever would have noticed that he got dressed in the bathroom just like the taller boy did.

"We have no idea how they'd react. I mean are you just intending to spring it on them in the middle of dinner?" Burt's brow furrowed, and Kurt knew his father was feeling disappointed in him. "I don't want them to know."

"Well, what do you want to tell them, then?" He turned back to the bench, picking up the knife again.

"Preferably nothing." He didn't need to see his dad to know how he'd be looking at him.

"You can't keep it a secret forever, Kurt. Just think about that." He stared at the chopping board and listened his father walk away. He was uneasy, and his wings were beating the air slightly, making a breeze waft through the kitchen. He shook himself, folding them neatly again, before continuing to cook. Maybe he couldn't take the secret to his grave, but he could damn well try.

The subject wasn't brought up again, though there was definitely residual awkwardness in the Hummel household that weekend. If school was a better place to be Kurt would have considered it a relief to go there on Monday morning. The almost-relief lasted until third period. Ms. Pillsbury entering a classroom always made a buzz go through the students inside it. It rarely meant good news. And Mr. Schuester coming with her – Kurt knew the news would be for him before the teacher said his name. He struggled to contain himself as they walked to Miss. Pillsbury's office – apparently she didn't want to tell him in the corridors. When the words left her mouth he wasn't sure if he was glad she waited or if he wished she'd told him outside his French classroom.

"Your dad's had a heart attack." She kept talking, obviously, saying which hospital he was in, the information that they'd been able to giver her over the phone, but Kurt was still kind of stuck on the first part. And the fact that without his dad he had nothing. No one. He could feel it like a tearing low in his stomach, and his shoulders were completely tense, and he could feel things _pushing_, and he choked out that he'd be back in a moment before running out of the office and into the nearest bathroom just in time for the straps of his harness to _snap_ painfully, and the seams of his shirt to split, letting his wings unfurl and beat at the air. He braced himself against the edge of a sink, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths and trying to calm down. But he wasn't even sure he knew what calm was anymore. Especially when the door opened.

"Kurt, are you-" Mr. Schuester stopped as he took in the sight. Kurt didn't know where to look, his fingers still white knuckled on the sink. He saw shock melt into pity in his teacher's eyes. "Do you have spare clothes?" Kurt swallowed and nodded slowly, trying to ignore the wind his wings were filling the room with.

"In my locker."

"What's the combo?" Kurt told him, and he nodded before leaving the room. He leant his forehead against the mirror, swallowing convulsively. When the teacher returned with the coat-hanger Kurt always kept in his locker he'd calmed down enough to take off the ruined shirts he'd been wearing, and pull his wings back in uncomfortably quickly, taking the spare harness off the hanger and yanking the straps tight far faster than he normally would. He could see how uncomfortable Mr. Schue was, but as he tucked in the first layer of spare clothing, he couldn't really bring himself to care. He didn't even care if his secret was outed anymore: all he wanted was his dad to be okay.

Staying calm was the most exhausting thing Kurt had ever done. Hours of the hospital, of Doctors saying that there was no way of knowing when Burt would wake up, of people hovering, before Mr. Schuester put his foot down and told Kurt he needed to go home. He was curled up in a ball, wings wrapped tightly around himself, when he realised he hadn't eaten anything all day. He didn't sleep. Strapping up his wings and covering them was harder than usual, as his uneasiness beat away at his insides. It got harder when he got to school, as it was clear most of the student body knew what had happened. People stared after him wherever he went. No one came near him – even Karofsky and Azimio kept their distance.

At least up until Glee, when he settled himself into a chair only to have Finn storm up, looking wild and angry.

"What the hell, dude! Your dad's in the hospital? Why don't you talk to me about this?" Anger and possessiveness snarled in Kurt's stomach, and he was fairly sure it's only his exhaustion that kept his emotions in check. He spoke without thinking, only tuning in to the last few words of what came out of his mouth.

"-he's _not_ your father!" He could see the surprise and hurt in Finn's eyes, and part of him instantly regretted the words, though most of him was too exhausted to care.

"Yeah, well he's the closest thing I have. I thought we were a family." Something stuck in his throat at that. Because that was exactly what his dad had said. But he couldn't work up the energy to do anything more than sit back down.

It was good though. Being as tired as he was numbed everything. So when people started talking about God it hurt less. Because Kurt could never reconcile God with something good. It wasn't just the gay thing, though that was the excuse he used. It was the fact that, if God existed, he was the one who had given Kurt's mother only ten years on earth when she'd fallen in love with Kurt's dad. Eight years with Kurt. Before reaching down and snatching her back. God was the one who had given him wings he had to hide, and a sexuality that people looked down on. He knew his dad believed in God. He prayed every day. He believed in the god that Kurt's mom had told them about, that Kurt couldn't.

Which was why he freaked out so badly when he went to the hospital to find Rachel, Quinn, and Mercedes praying. Because if they weren't going to respect his own beliefs they should at least have respect his dad's. He could feel muscles straining as the straps, pulling them hard against his chest, and every fucking instinct he had was screaming to leap out the third story window by his dad's bed and soar away. But he stayed. Because he needed to stay with his family. Which included Carole and Finn, he admitted to himself, even if he didn't want to. But when his dad opened his eyes, he was pretty sure he'd admit anything to make sure nothing happened to him again

It was a brief and stupid crush. He realised it was stupid about two notes into Sam's duet with Quinn. He wondered idly if she'd ever tell him what she was, as his eyes drifted from the glances they kept giving each other to their linked hands. Even the reason it started was stupid. Kurt was overwhelmed by the idea that someone in his town could actually be at least the type of person who would be interested in him. And he had always had a longing for the classical. Maybe the cliché. And even though the colour of his hair was as fake as a picture of Sue Sylvester in a dress, with the bright blonde colour of it, and the handsome, friendly face… Kurt thought Sam looked more like an angel than he ever would. Not that anyone in McKinley, hell, anyone in Lima, would recognise anything angelic if it bit them on the ass. But the idea that Sam could be interested in someone like him was shot down almost as quickly as it flourished.

Rachel inviting him to duet was, annoyingly, the high point of his month. Because after his dad, and Finn and Carole, and Sam, it was nice to have someone approach him. Someone who wanted to sing with him. Not for a competition, not because she knew he was a creature that could help her further her cause (though he wouldn't put it past her to have offered because of his sexuality, though she had only used that to try and get something for herself once before). But even the song she picked kind of reeked of her actually thinking about him. And that was nice. So when Burt, still quieter and slower than usual, brought up telling Finn and Carole again he agreed.

It was the most nervous he'd ever been, waiting for Burt to call him down into the living room. He stood like a statue, except for his fluttering wings, making a breeze waft through his room and stirring the curtains. He stood like that until he heard his dad shuffling up the hall, and he followed him back to see the family. He didn't know what they'd been told – his dad had said that he'd prepare them – but the sight of him with his wings unfurled clearly took both of them by surprise. The ball of stress in is stomach doubled in size and the breeze in the room grew stronger. Finn's jaw had dropped, and Carole looked pale. Part of him wanted to pull his wings in, so they were smaller, less imposing, but he was too on edge to force them to move.

"Wow." It was quiet, but the long silence that had preceded it made Finn's voice seem to echo around the room. It seemed to break a sort of spell, and Kurt moved to the couch to sit down, folding his arms, and letting his wings rest comfortingly close to his shoulders as he settled to face his family.

_It was easy for her to hide her wings – she wasn't a half-blood, her body was made to accommodate them. He always liked it best when she let them out though, and he could sit on her lap, and she'd pull them around so they were alone, surrounded by feathers. He sat like that while she told him stories of what she was. Seraphim. He'd say the word to himself slowly, loving the way it felt in his mouth, this special thing that his mother was. He revelled in the feeling of her wings wrapped close around him. Later, even when he hated his wings, even when everything hurt from holding them in so long, when he exhausted himself trying to hide them, just the fact that they reminded him of her was comforting._

As thankful as he Kurt was that the Hudsons were accepting of his less-than-human parentage, a large part of him wished that Finn was better at lying. Because he'd picked up this weird habit of squirming and looking awkward any time someone brought up non-human rights. He could already see people wondering. Quinn Fabray had her scheming face on every time she looked at him, and Rachel was definitely nosey enough to get him to spill. It made him more nervous than he usually was. Especially when Azimio and Karofsky kept looming in the background and knocking him aside, and more than once he hit the wall wrong, and felt all the bones in his back press at odd, painful angles, and Kurt was almost certain they were smarter than they looked. Not that that would be hard.

It was more irritated when it was combined with Schue's idea of a fun performance. He loved playing Riff-Raff. And it was true; he found getting shoved straight into the role of Frank insulting. But it wasn't necessarily the reason he turned it down. He'd never really had a chance of playing the part, because no matter how watered down or changed the show would be, it's a given that no costume the Transylvanian would ever wear would be able to hide the extra appendages growing from Kurt's shoulders. And he _knew_. As much as Kurt liked to pretend no one except his family was aware of what he was, he knew there was no way Mr. Schue had forgotten entering the bathroom to be greeted by Kurt, clothes torn and wings fully extended. Of course the anxiety is added to by all the casting changes, and then the show going on, or not going on, or going on without an audience. And then straight into the mash up competition.

It was a pretty simple dynamic. Kurt wasn't comfortable around the other boys in the club, and the other boys generally weren't comfortable around him. And he _knew_ that the addition of the opposites clause came less out of Mr. Schuester actually agreeing with to him about the lack of a challenge than it did of the pity he could still see whenever the man looks at him. Of course, when he tried to take advantage of it, he was shut down. And every day was punctuated by being slammed into lockers so hard he swore he could feel his bones bending. Even more than he used to. And half the time it was just Karofsky, Azimio nowhere in sight and Kurt quickly learned to hate the other boy, hate everyone else for not reacting, hate his wings for making it so much more painful than it had to be. So when everything got to be too much he told his dad he's sick, and skipped school. Under the pretence of spying for Glee on Dalton Academy for Boys. When Puck had told him he should spy on the competition he hadn't really thought much of the idea until he decided to use it as an excuse to not show up for rehearsal. But he realised, as he walked into the imposing and beautiful building, it could be an incredibly terrible idea. Because, as the twitching at his shoulder blades reminded him, he could be exposed as a lot more than just a spy. But he continued into the school.

Everyone seemed to be in class as he wandered quietly through the halls, until a bell rang as he was wandering down a staircase, and students seemed to appear from nowhere at all, all rushing in the same direction. His spine buzzed with the proximity of someone non-human almost instantly, and he shuddered a little. Either there was one person who was exceedingly strong, or there were a lot of them at the school. He watched a small, dark haired teenager scowl at the person he was walking with and barely restrained himself from jumping as he caught a flash of fang. Apparently students here were a lot less careful than they were at McKinley. Unnerved by the way everyone seemed to know where they were going; he turned to stop the next person who passed him, sending a mental thank you into the air when he seemed completely human.

"Could I ask you a question? I'm new." He automatically tried to push away any thoughts about the boy's handsome face, as he smiled, and held out his hand.

"My name's Blaine."

"Kurt." He couldn't stop something in him starting to move in interest as his hand gripped the others boys. The flutter in his stomach as he – _Blaine _– explained what was happening. Awareness and appreciation for his looks crept in, unable to be denied any longer, when Blaine grabbed his hand _again_ to pull him down the corridor. And maybe it was stupid, but Kurt wasn't used to people just touching him. Especially boys. Because even if they weren't usually scared to 'catch the gay' he _knew_ the kind of rough housing guys did. He'd seen them, putting each other in headlocks, slinging arms around their friend's shoulders. Even if they were things he was interested in (and even though he's kind of not, the lack of them always sends a pang of longing through him) he pulled away from touch like that. Because it would be so simple for someone to realise that the back they were touching wasn't just a back. So a guy, even one he hardly knew, grabbing his hand to show him where to go… it was new. And not entirely unwelcome. Though it was quashed slightly when he was pulled into a room where it became clear just how unlike the uniform his attempt at fitting in was.

"I stick out like a sore thumb."

Maybe he got away with it though, because Blaine just reached over to tweak his lapel (and as much as Kurt hated other people fiddling with his clothes, he couldn't bring himself to mind) and said "Next time don't forget your jacket, New Kid," before excusing himself and starting to sing. And it wasn't like he was even singing to Kurt (even with the pointing, Kurt wasn't stupid – there's a difference between serenading someone and putting on a good show) but it was something. Even if he was fairly sure people were going to start realising he was a spy any moment, even though his spine was practically numb from the apparently huge amount of non-humans around, even though he'd driven two hours to only get a crush and a Katy Perry song.

He managed to escape a few minutes after the song ended, head still spinning with the way Blaine had looked at him after he'd finished singing, smug, like he was waiting for a compliment. He probably only needed to look at Kurt's expression to get one. But as he was walking down the long driveway the led to the ornate gates, a voice stopped him.

"Kurt! Wait." He turned to see Blaine approaching, flanked by two other boys, and he couldn't help stopping. "Thank you for waiting. Now, we know you don't go to school here." He swallowed, partly in reaction to being caught, and partly because one of the three boys in front of him was definitely not human. "We just want to talk. Unfortunately we have classes, and we figure you have to get back to wherever you came from." The friendly tone in his voice confused Kurt. "Could you come back here tomorrow? Is there any way?" He thought about it before nodding, thinking that this could be the stupidest decision he'd ever made, but the smile Blaine gave him in return. "Awesome. Thank you. We'll see you tomorrow, then." And then, as if they hadn't been talking to someone who'd entered the school solely to spy on them, they turned and walking casually back into the building, leaving Kurt to walk to his car and drive back to Lima wondering exactly what he'd discovered on his trip.

The next day, as he walked up the driveway he wondered why he'd come back. Because he had no idea what they were going to do to him, and why the fuck would he drive two hours to possibly get beaten up, or exposed, or something worse. But when he reached the school itself Blaine was waiting for him, with the other two boys, soon introduced as Wes and David. Apparently when they said coffee, they had actually meant coffee, and when Wes strongly asserted that they weren't going to beat him up Kurt's tongue grew heavy with the amount of things he wanted to know.

"Can I ask you guys a question?" He wanted to ask why someone was blasé enough to show fang in the hallway. Which one of them wasn't human. Why they asked him to coffee. But his courage failed him and he latched on to the first thing that New Directions had grabbed when they heard about the Academy. "Is this a gay school?" Their laughter made him uncomfortable, and he was caught between wishing he'd had the guts to ask one of his actual questions, and wishing he hadn't spoken at all.

"Well, I am." Three small words made Kurt's world kind of tilt, because he's honestly never expected to meet another gay kid while he was high school in Ohio. David explained the zero tolerance policy and a weird feeling curled in the pit of Kurt's stomach. Because on the one hand that sounded amazing. Being able to walk around school without getting pushed into lockers, without being called a fag, without someone asking him if he actually had balls. Then for some reason his mind skipped to being able to walk around without his wings tied in, and he had to shut down the train of thought before he started imagining things that couldn't exist. He looked up to see Blaine giving him a searching look, and realised his reaction must have looked strange. But the other boy just asked Wes and David to excuse them before continuing the conversation.

He asked. Well, he assumed. But he was the first person in so long that had actually acknowledged that things at school were shitty for Kurt, that Kurt couldn't help telling him. Even then he had to restrain so much of it, the things he was hiding, the people who knew, all the things that made the house of cards that was his life even less stable. Instead he talked about Karofsky, about being the only person out, and the way no one seemed to care. And Blaine _understood_. Which was kind of magical, and Kurt hadn't felt so connected to someone in a long time. Then Blaine started talking about running away, and he thought about confronting Karofsky, about not just hiding. And it was tempting. But as they exchanged cell phone numbers he knew the chances were dim.

At home he went on the Dalton Academy website, clicking through photos of campus, and happy testimonials from parents and students alike. Burt was bringing him a glass of water when he saw the page.

"You're looking at other schools?" Kurt could see him assume the worst. "Does someone know?" He shook his head quickly, tying to assuage his father's panic.

"No. I just… met a guy that goes here. We had some things in common; I wanted to find out more about the school." Burt raised his eyebrows, obviously seeing straight to exactly what Kurt meant they had in common.

"Right. Dinner's in half an hour." Kurt nodded, turning back to his screen and Burt left the room. He was bringing the glass to his lips when his eyes lit on a single phrase, at the bottom of the page of the paragraph about the life for students at the school.

'_Dalton Academy is proud to extend its zero-tolerance bullying policy to its non-human students.'_

The glass slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor with a crash.

'_Courage.'_

It was more than a word. It was proof that somebody knew, that somebody cared. Kurt knew that it was stupid to start falling for the guy, but he couldn't really help it. And the text was _proof,_ and so Kurt kept rereading it. If nothing else it made him smile. So when Karofsky knocked his phone, the word still proudly displayed on it's screen, onto the ground and shoved him into the lockers so hard all the bones in his wings ground together, with a casual 'sup, fag,' it made him angrier than it ever had before. Because he was finally walking the halls of McKinley feeling something good, and the stupid jock had to go and ruin it. So before he thought about what he was doing he'd stormed after the other boy, words spilling from his lips without thinking about what he was saying. Until the other boy stopped them.

Then everything froze.

He could distantly feel Karofsky's hands – huge, warm, and damp – on his cheeks, and Karofsky's lips moving roughly against his own. He couldn't comprehend any of it, he couldn't move. He could hear his heart thudding loudly in his ears. The other boy pulled away, looking at him with wide eyes, fingers trailing along Kurt's jaw, but he still couldn't move. Until he leaned in again. He _pushed_, heaving the other boy away and a snap echoed around the locker room, and an enormous pressure at his back released. Karofsky was staring at him like he'd never seen him before, and there was a breeze flowing through the room, and it took Kurt a moment to realise that his wings had broken his harness again, and were fully extended, beating at the air. Karofsky turned, and fled the room, and Kurt stayed frozen. His phone was still on the floor in the hallway. His spare clothing and harness was in his locker, halfway through the school. He shuddered, and started slowing folding his wings, fighting through the haze of confusion and panic that was clouding his brain.

He yanked his cardigan off, and pulled it back on over his wings, breathing slowly and steadily as he tried to keep calm. The bell rang. He prayed to whatever was out there that no one would be in the halls as he stepped out, and as he picked up his phone. He managed to get to his locker without being seen and ducked into the bathroom just as he heard footsteps rounding the corner into the stretch of hallway he was in.

He went to bed early that evening, and as he lay there his head was still reeling.

_Kiss. Kiss. Kiss._

It was like it was throbbing through his bloodstream. He kept remembering how it felt, and didn't want to. Because he'd just met Blaine. He'd just had the hint that maybe he'd be able to kiss a boy before he fucking graduated, and Karofsky had stolen that away from him. He shuddered, pulling his wings tight around him, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to see something other than Karofsky's face, far, far too close to his own.

His phone buzzed. Blaine. Even seeing the name displayed on his phone made him feel better.

'_So I was trying to think of something to say just now.' _He couldn't help smiling a little.

'_What did you come up with?'_ He pulled himself up to sit against his wall, wrapping his wings around him as he waited for the reply.

'_All I had was 'Courage' again.'_

'_Could you be any more cliché?'_

'_Probably.'_

Kurt snorted, before his phone buzzed again.

'_But seriously, how was your day?'_

Kurt stared at the message for a long time before deciding to tell Blaine the truth. Because he felt like Blaine was probably the only person he could tell. His response wasn't exactly what he expected.

'_You should talk to him.'_

'_What?'_

'_I'll help. You've come to my school twice, it's only fair.'_

He was still surprised the next day when Blaine actually showed up, wearing his Dalton uniform, which wasn't exactly the best camouflage. His heart thudded awkwardly against his ribs, and he could already feel a frisson of nervousness running through his feathers.

Of course the meeting didn't go well. The only thing that Kurt could cling to was that, this time, when he pushed Karofsky away his wings didn't break free. And when Blaine asked him why he was upset he couldn't exactly say _'Well I've never kissed a boy before, and I was kind of already hoping the first boy I kissed was going to be you'. _When Blaine said he'd buy him lunch, he'd expected they'd just be going to the cafeteria, but Blaine started walking towards the car park. Kurt wanted to say something as they drove, but he couldn't think of anything. He could feel Blaine giving him odd looks as he pulled into the parking lot of the first café they came across. That was about the time that Kurt realised what he was actually doing, and nervousness swirled into his stomach to mix with the stress of confronting Karofsky. His throat dried out, and he could feel his wings twitching. He hardly said anything as they ordered their food and sat down.

"Are you ok?" Kurt gazed at his latte.

"I'm fine." Blaine tilted his head a little, like he was trying to meet Kurt's eye, but Kurt looked away.

"Can I ask you something?" He looked back at the other boy who smiled a little.

"Sure."

"I was on the Dalton website the other night…" He trailed off, wondering if he was about to give himself away with the question. Blaine raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

"I saw… There was a page that said that the bullying policy extended to", he paused and took a deep breath, "non-human students." Blaine blinked, face inscrutable.

"And you were wondering… ?" Kurt stared steadfastly at his drink.

"If it was true." Blaine leaned back and folded his arms.

"It is." Kurt blinked as the thought of it overwhelmed him. He tried to focus on breathing so slowly as he thought about walking around a school without worrying someone would find out his secret. Where he wouldn't get shoved into lockers. Where he might even be able to walk around without tying his wings up. He swallowed slowly. Blaine was still looking at him like he was waiting for something. "Why did you want to know? Do you have a problem with it?" Kurt licked his lips slowly, trying to think of how to explain without confessing.

"No! I just. I… didn't think something like that existed." He spoke slowly, and he could see a kind of comprehension dawning on Blaine's face.

"Oh. _Oh._" He looked around and leaned forward, eyes intent. "So... what are you?" Kurt's spine stiffened and Blaine seemed to realise his mistake, sitting back slightly. "Sorry, that's a personal question." Part of Kurt desperately wanted to tell him, but he just nodded.

"Yeah, it is." He fidgeted as Blaine stared at the table for a long moment.

"My sister got bitten." Kurt's face jerked up to look at the other boy. "Years ago. That's why I go to Dalton." He glanced up at Kurt, eyes solemn, and Kurt had never wanted to tell anyone about his wings more. He could feel the words pressing against his tongue, but he couldn't say them.

_Her eyes were sad as she explained why he couldn't keep going outside with his wings out. Why he couldn't fly around like he wanted too._

"_It scares some people. That people like us exist."_

_He curled up on her lap, wings fluttering behind him._

"_Maybe one day people will realise there's nothing to be scared of."_

_He wondered, as she started to sing a quiet lullaby, how anyone could be afraid of something as beautiful as her. But he listened to her, and he stopped flying._

Karofsky kept looking at him. Kurt was terrified. As much as Finn lacked subtlety, at least Kurt knew he would work to keep his secret. Karofsky hadn't told anyone, and Kurt didn't know why. Until he cornered him, asking him if he'd told anyone. The other boy's looming shape so close to him terrified him, and he had to work hard to keep his wings from pressing dangerously hard against his harness. Of course he hadn't told. The secret Karofsky knew was a lot more dangerous than the one Kurt did. Though considering the look on Karoksky's face when he said "If you tell anyone I'll kill you", he didn't agree. Kurt was constantly on edge at school, feeling like any moment people would start pulling away from him, looking at him in disgust. Planning the wedding was a welcome distraction. He threw himself into it with an intensity that he had rarely channelled before.

Karofsky noticed.

The cake topper. The fucking two dollar, cheap plastic cake topper he'd taken to carrying around with him to remind himself that good things were still happening. It wasn't like Karofsky had taken something vital to Kurt's life, but it felt like he'd carefully picked something that he knew would screw with Kurt's head. Plus the finger slowly trailing down Kurt's chest. He'd felt his breath stutter, every muscle in his body tensing as he desperately tried to think how he could get away, if he should call for help, why the _fuck_ did no one walking past realise something was _wrong?_ And then Mr. Schuester thought the solution was a tiny paper cup of coffee and a conversation in his office.

Was there anything he could do? Kurt had to restrain a laugh, because no teacher in the school had ever cared about helping before. Maybe he'd been having a crisis of guilt since he found out about Kurt's less than human DNA. He restrained himself from sneering at the clear case of too little too late, telling Mr. Schuester _no, there wasn't anything_, before leaving. Because if he stayed he was fairly sure he'd only say unflattering things.

Trying to teach Finn and his dad to dance was equal parts entertaining and frustrating. He knew Finn was going to be the more difficult to teach, so he set his dad stepping to the counts as he taught the taller boy. It was the first time he'd had all week to concentrate solely on wedding plans, and he'd been intending to enjoy it, no matter how prickly he was being towards Finn. Of course, nothing could ever happen the way he wanted it to.

"What the hell was that?"

"It's nothing, Dad." He mentally begged Burt to believe him, to not push.

"That was not nothing. That guy was making fun of you. What the hell's his name?" Kurt folded his arms, and lifted his chin, only for Finn to step in.

"Tell him, Kurt."

"Tell me what?"

"Tell him or I will."

So Kurt gritted his teeth and told him. He could see the disbelief in his dad's eyes, and he mentally cursed how well they knew each other.

"There's something you're not telling me."

Kurt's throat closed around the words. He couldn't figure out what he was even supposed to say.

_He kissed me._

_He threatened to kill me._

_He knows._

He shook his head instead.

"It's nothing." Burt took a step towards him, and Finn was looking confused, but Kurt ignored it. "Let's just keep going with the lesson." And even though he could see that neither his dad nor his soon to be step brother wanted to drop the subject, Kurt was nothing if not persistent.

The day of the wedding Kurt felt strange all day. He realised, while he was waiting to start the dance down the aisle, it was because he hadn't had a day in a long time where he had to restrain his wings because of happiness, rather than stress, or fear. It felt good, even though it was uncomfortable. When they finally got home, and he was able to let his wings out, he curled up, sleepy and satisfied, and happier than he'd been in a long time.

Of course it wasn't going to last. He really should have known.

"Sup, fairy."

Karofsky. With Azimio, for the first time in a while, approached as he was walking out of the school. Kurt swallowed, raising his chin, and straightening his shoulders as he waited for them to do whatever it was they wanted to do. Given they'd approached him in the parking lot he guessed it was throwing him the dumpster. He could feel anxiety running up his spine already, and the number of interested stares they were garnering was making him uneasy.

"So, my brother here told me you came onto him." _No._ Part of him was insulted that Karofsky was implying that Kurt was in any way attracted to him, but most of him was too busy being terrified of what the homophobic jocks in the school would do with the information.

"I didn't realise avoiding like the plague was a type of come on." They kept moving closer, and Kurt desperately hoped his intimidation didn't show on his face. Karofsky's face was dispassionate, Azimio's was smug.

"I think you're missing the point here. We don't want you coming near us with your little faggy ways." Kurt's eyes flickered to Karofsky but his face didn't betray anything. "So we decided we needed to teach you a lesson." Kurt didn't understand why the dumpster was a lesson. It wasn't like he wasn't used to it. He landed hard, wincing at the angle on his back, and struggled to catch his breath as he climbed out. He wasn't expecting to be slammed back against the metal of the dumpster seconds after his feet hit the ground. "You didn't think that was it, did you?" He looked past the pair to see Mr. Schuester walking out of the main building, and saw the man look directly at him before looking down. And then Kurt could feel the blood pumping through his veins, hear it rushing in his ears, and everything was too much. Because he was sick of hurting and no one caring, and of secrets defining his life, and being terrified.

He heard a snap, then a gasp, travel through the parking lot, and realised everyone was staring. Azimio and Karofsky had both pulled away, and were gazing, wide-eyed, behind him. Then he realised he could feel his wings beating powerfully at his shoulders. Everyone in the parking lot was staring. Finn was emerging from the school looking worried, Rachel Berry had a look of grotesque admiration on her face, and Quinn Fabray had this smug, anticipatory expression like she was enjoying seeing someone else get exposed. Kurt felt his eyes widen as he took in the amount of people who could see him. Who _knew_. Then, heart racing in his chest, he did the only thing he could think of. What he hadn't done since he was a kid.

He flew.

He wasn't even sure he knew how anymore. He just knew he needed to get away, so he started running towards the other end of the parking lot and before he'd taken five steps his wings had taken over and he'd started to soar upwards. He heard startled noises over the rush of the wind in his ears and the beating of his wings, but he didn't look back. He didn't know where he was going, and he didn't really care, just knowing staying high above the ground seemed like the most important thing in the world. He didn't know how long he flew for, but he ended up perched in the topmost branches of a tree, finally pulling his ruined shirts and harness off. He was half surprised when he realised his phone was still in his pocket, and he pulled it out to a ridiculous number of messages, mostly from his dad. He replied slowly, letting his wings rest.

'_I flew away. I'm fine. I'll start on my way back.'_

He leaned his forehead against a branch, letting the cool, rough bark take him back to when he used to sit at the top of trees as a kid, when his location could be explained by climbing, and his wings were small enough to be hidden by the branches. Something rushed past his head, and he tensed, looking down to see an old woman, holding stones.

"Get out of here, half-breed!"

She threw another stone, and he wobbled on the branch before launching himself off, flapping away as he heard her screech again. He didn't see any familiar landmarks, though he wasn't even sure he'd recognise things from the air, but something told him he was flying in the right direction. He hardly remembered the journey away from Lima, and he was surprised how cold it was. He didn't even know what to do with his arms. He'd gone further than he realised, and he didn't think he was much closer to Lima when his back started to ache, and his wings started the tremble. The sun was starting to set, and he shivered. It was dark when he recognised a pair of ornate gates, and a huge brick building below him.

Dalton, he thought. Westerville. _Blaine_.

Before he realised what he was doing he'd folded his wings and was diving towards the field behind the school. He landed in a crouch, and looked around as he stood. The darkness was thick; he could hardly see anything, and he was struck by the realisation that stopping at Dalton with his wings out, and his shirt ripped up and in his hand was probably not the best idea. But his wings were still shaking a little and he didn't know how long it would take to fly to Lima from Westerville, and he figured just resting for a few minutes wouldn't hurt. So he stood there, feeling his wings droop with exhaustion and the muscles in his back protesting the overexertion. Until a flashlight suddenly shone on him, making him jerk with surprise.

"Look, I understand you're probably frightened, but this is technically a closed campus so we need to take you to reception for a visi- Kurt?" He couldn't see the figure holding the torch, and it took him a moment to place the voice.

"Wes?" He blinked tiredly, and jerked a little when a bored voice came from his right.

"You _know_ him?" Kurt looked towards the voice to see a slim, dark-haired boy, who was regarding him with bored disdain. When he saw Kurt staring he bared his fangs a little, and Kurt drew back slightly. He didn't know if he'd ever met a vampire before, but he'd certainly never met one so willing to show themselves as one.

"He's a friend of Blaine's." Wes moved closer, turning the flashlight aside a little so Kurt could see him better. "We do need to get you a visitor's badge. What are you doing here?" He glanced at Kurt's wings with a confused look on his face. "Have you _always_ had those?" Kurt blinked slowly, before answering.

"Yeah. People found out and I panicked and I ended up here. I should call my dad." Wes frowned a little as Kurt pulled his phone out of his pocket, still surprised it had managed to stay there.

"There's a landline at reception, come on." He pulled his own phone out of his pocket as Kurt followed him towards the school.

"Who are you texting, Dog?" Kurt flinched at Thad's voice – the dark-haired boy had been moving so quietly he'd forgotten he was there.

"Blaine." Kurt started and Wes grinned. "I thought he'd like you know you were here." He turned to the other boy. "And stop calling me dog, Thad, it's rude." Thad sniffed, melting away from the light from the torch.

"_I_ don't care." Wes snorted, as the made their way to the door of the building. Thad melted back a little further. "While you're taking our unexpected guest to reception, I shall continue our patrol." Wes nodded, waving at the other boy, who hissed slightly in response. His only response was to turn, opening the door for Kurt.

"Sorry. It's not you; he's like that with everyone." Kurt nodded slowly. Somehow knowing there were people who were openly non-human at a school was completely different to seeing it. He wasn't sure how to react, so he just followed the other boy to the reception, where he could call his dad.

"Where the _hell_ are you?"

"Dalton Academy. In Westerville." He could almost hear his dad's scowl. "I got tired and it seemed like a good place to stop."

"I'm on my way." His voice was extra gruff, and Kurt could tell he was worried. He moved to sit down on one of the waiting couches, but stopped when he saw Wes' head shoot up, raising his eyebrows when the other boy took in a deep breath through his nose. He shot Kurt a grin when he realised he was staring.

"Sorry. Blaine's almost here." Kurt blinked as he sat down properly, thinking he probably should've realised by then that Wes wasn't human. Before he was distracted by Blaine rounding the corner, looking concerned.

"Kurt, what are yo-" He stopped as he saw Kurt properly, and Kurt couldn't help drawing his wings towards him, and crossing his arms defensively, and really wishing he had a shirt that wasn't ruined. "_Oh._" Wes laughed, and Kurt shot him a glare, as Blaine hovered awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"I better get back to patrol or Thad will freak. Catch you later, Kurt." Wes stood as he spoke, before waving, and walking off down the hall. Kurt bit his lip lightly.

"Sorry, I- Sorry I didn't tell you." Blaine shook his head slowly.

"No, I know why you wouldn't. Just… what are you doing here?" Kurt looked down at his lap.

"I got upset at school and people found out. So I flew away. And on my way back I got tired, and I saw Dalton, and I thought it could be good place to stop. Safe, I mean." Blaine sat down where was had been sitting, folding one leg so he could keep facing Kurt.

"It was probably a good idea. So are you going to keep flying, or… ?" Kurt shook his head.

"My dad's on his way." Blaine nodded slowly, eyes still tracing down Kurt's wings.

"Can I- this is probably a weird question, but can I touch them?" Kurt looked up to see Blaine blush a little, as if he regretted saying it. He thought about it for a moment – no one had ever asked to touch his wings before, and it kind of seemed like a weirdly personal thing to do, but he didn't mind if Blaine did. So he shrugged.

"Sure." Blaine reached out a hand slowly, as if he was afraid that he was doing something wrong, before running it lightly down the curve of the wing closest to him. Kurt couldn't help the shiver that ran threw him, as he realised why he'd never let anyone touch his wings directly before, because _wow_ he felt it in every atom. He opened his eyes, unaware when he'd shut them, so see Blaine looking at him with this surprised, reverent look on his face, as if he was something truly special. It made Kurt uncomfortable. "You aren't too weirded out?" Blaine seemed to snap out of it, and smiled at Kurt.

"No. I'm kind of used to it. I mean you're the first, uh-" he gestured to Kurt's wings, "angel? I've met. But I know a few strange types." Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Half. Seraph, to be exact." Blaine nodded slowly, apparently taking a moment to comprehend the new information.

"Ah. So what are you going to do now that people know?" Kurt shook his head.

"I don't know."

They stayed there talking slowly until Burt arrived, looking pale and stressed. He hugged Kurt tightly as soon as he saw him, and even though Kurt had thought he'd processed everything he found himself clinging to his father like he was a lifeline, folding his wings and letting Burt wrap his jacket around his shoulders. Before they could leave, though, a tall, middle aged woman with honey blonde hair approached. Blaine jumped to introduce them.

"Principal Baines, this is Kurt, and Burt Hummel." He turned to Kurt. "This is Principal Baines." Kurt blinked, unsure of what he'd expected of the headmaster of an all boys school, but not expecting this. She shook their hands firmly, and her hand was cool.

"I understand that you're eager to get back to your home, but given the shaky future of Kurt's schooling, I'd like you to make an appointment to come talk to me again in the next few days." Burt nodded, and he and Baines walked over to the receptionist to find a time, leaving Kurt and Blaine standing together. Kurt pulled Burt's jacket a little tighter around his shoulders.

"Sounds like she wants you to come here." He tilted his head as he spoke and Kurt smiled a little.

"That'd be nice." Blaine grinned, looking at the ground.

"Hey, Kurt, can you come over here?" Kurt looked up at his dad, then back at Blaine, who shrugged awkwardly.

"I guess I'll see you?" Kurt nodded is response, and Blaine smiled widely at him. "Cool." He turned to jog off down the hall, while Kurt walked over to his father to find out about the appointment with Principal Baines. The ride home was mostly quiet, until they'd been driving for an hour, and Kurt felt his phone buzz.

'_I figured out how to get cheesier.'_ He blinked.

'_How?'_

'_Did you ever know that you're my hero,__and everything I would like to be?__I can fly higher than an eagle,__'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.'_

He laughed so hard he cried.

Two days later he was sitting in the Principal's office, revelling in the feeling of being away from home without his wings bound up. It was exhilarating, but also kind of terrifying, and they were fluttering a little, rustling the papers the desk. His dad touched his shoulder lightly to try and calm him, but Kurt couldn't help the low, anxious swirl in his stomach. Burt looked like he was going to say something but he was interrupted by Principal Baines entering the room.

"Thank you for coming." She seated herself on the other side of the desk, and Kurt shifted nervously. "Have you heard about what's happened at Kurt's old school yet?" Burt glanced at Kurt before answering.

"He's been expelled for, ah, exposing himself on school grounds, I think they said." He snorted a little. "They called to let us know." She nodded slowly.

"Have you thought about attending school here?" Kurt's spine stiffened, and he cleared his throat.

"The tuition is-"

"We can look into it." Burt cut him off, sharply, and Kurt felt something drop suddenly in his stomach. The Principal smiled at them.

"Well, you'll be happy to note that there are multiple scholarships that will be available to be applied for on the new school year. Until then we have a fund for good students expelled from their schools under… dubious circumstances, shall we say." She shuffled amongst the papers on her desk until she found what she was looking for, and held a form out. "That seems to fit you to a T." Kurt blinked. He hadn't known what to expect, but this had been beyond his wildest dreams. "I'd say you can start here in… oh, two days? I'm sure that will be enough time to have a few uniforms modified for your figure." She smiled at him, and he couldn't do anything but nod.

His first morning at Dalton saw Kurt perched in a tree on the grounds, wondering if other prospective students felt this nervous. It was colder than he'd expected, and he'd wrapped his wings close to his shoulders, still revelling in the newness of constantly wearing clothes altered to accommodate them. It was too early to go to class, so he just sat. He didn't realise the extent that he hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings until he felt the tree shift, and looked down to see Blaine pulling himself onto a branch a below him.

"Hi." Kurt opened his wings a little to get a better view of the other boy.

"Hi."

"Excited for you first day?" Kurt shifted, thinking about it before he replied.

"I'm not sure." Blaine smiled at him.

"Things are getting better out there, you know." Kurt looked down at him, raising an eyebrow. "They're making headway with the Ryerson case." Kurt snorted. "Do you really believe you'll always have to hide?" Kurt leaned his cheek against the bark of the tree.

"I don't know." Kurt watched as Blaine pulled himself up another few branches so he was level with him. "But I'm hopeful."


End file.
